Until the End (Volkov Bratva #2)(18)

Surprising them all, the man reached into his coat pocket, withdrawing a hefty envelope, tapping it against the table.

“How do you expect to pay me back?”

“I have a job,” he spoke up. “I can get you the money.”

“You work at a supermarket to pay for your mother’s care. How long would that take, young Cameron Thompson?”

Cameron was stunned speechless. He had never even given his name to anyone, yet they knew all this information about him. He should have known then that he was way over his head.

“I’ll do anything,” he pleaded instead.

D smirked, shaking his head as though he already knew what the man was going to do, but he frowned when the man slid the envelope across the table.

“Do not worry about the money,” the man said, shocking everyone. “One day, your debt will come due, and on that day, you will answer to me. Do you agree to my terms.”

Cameron stared down at the envelope, hesitating. For all he knew, the man could ask him to kill someone. Was he really willing to take that chance?

As Cameron left that room, the envelope tucked safely into his back pocket, he would later regret ever doing business with the Russians in that back room.

When he finished, Lauren couldn’t look at him. It was an impossible situation to understand. Her father’s desire to go to school by any means necessary was admirable, but how could he think that that was a good option.

“You could have said no,” Lauren said quietly.

“And he could have turned down the money,” Mikhail retorted. “I am a businessman. I do not care for sentiment. At the time, he was what I needed and he served his purpose.”

Red, hot anger filled Lauren and she was close to saying something she knew she would regret.

“I warned you that it would not be what you wanted to hear, you persisted, but,”—he raised his hand when she meant to cut him off—“that does not mean I do not feel sorry for what he suffered. He was a good man in a world of thieves. He knew the risks. Know that Viktor paid for what he did and leave it at that.”





The same hotel room. The same day of the week. Yet despite the familiarity, there was a considerable difference charging the air around them. Mishca could see it on their faces as he entered, scanning his surroundings.

What happened with Viktor—at least the reasons behind his execution—was unknown to the other members, but since his murder was broadcasted, his death was a well-known fact, and the way his body was found was a clear indicator to anyone in this room who had taken out the hit.

Most of the members inside were respectful, not daring to even look like they thought of questioning Mishca, but others were bolder, blatantly looking to him for an explanation. What was the likelihood of Viktor’s death happening only a few months after he brought Lauren around, especially with his attitude towards her?

Ignoring the looks, Mishca took the seat to the right of Mikhail’s chair, unbuttoning his jacket to pull out his Blackberry, hoping for a missed call or text, finding neither. It wasn’t that he expected anything different under the circumstances, but after seeing her the other day…he had hoped.

Logically, he knew he kept his phone on vibrate and if there were any notifications he would be able to feel it, but he still found himself checking his phone every few minutes.

Hope was a bitch.

By the time the meeting started, Mishca was ready to leave.

“Viktor is no longer with us,” Mikhail said ominously, tapping his finger against the table.

Mishca couldn’t help but notice it was the finger with the skull across his knuckle.

“Because of this, we will need to divide his duties amongst ourselves. Mishca and myself,” Mikhail went on though he didn’t bother to acknowledge him, “have taken over the arms deals. He’s proven himself and the buyers are pleased, but that still leaves The Gilded Room.”

That particular establishment was one Mishca didn’t particularly want, but he also didn’t want anyone in this room to have it either. It was too close to his territory for his liking and sometimes the problems inside The Gilded Room spilled over into his work, and he couldn’t have that.

Ronald, a particularly nasty man with a penchant for raping and beating the working girls spoke up, offering to take the position.

Frowning, Mishca said, “I have a man for the job.”

Mikhail waved him on as Ronald scowled. “Speak.”

“Luka Sergeyev.”

He cocked a brow.

“He’s done good work for me over the last year,” Mishca hastened to say.

It was no secret that Luka could be a bit…unstable, but Mishca had never doubted his loyalty, not once since he came to work for him several years ago.

“Two weeks and report back to me.”

With that over with, the meeting went on as usual, everyone passing their envelopes to the center of the table. Ten minutes later, the room was empty again, save Mishca and his father.

To say that things were tense between Mishca and his father would be an understatement. They kept up pretenses, yes, but Mishca avoided his father whenever possible. The only time they saw each other was for the monthly sit down when Mishca was forced to be in his presence.

“I spoke with the doctor’s daughter some time ago.”

With each word Mikhail spoke, Mishca’s hand tightened around the glass in his hand. By the time he finished speaking, the crystal shattered.